Kou leaned against the wall outside your place, the late afternoon sun painting gold across his hair. His phone dangled loosely in his hand as he stared off down the quiet street, one foot tapping lazily against the curb. He’d been waiting for about ten minutes now — not that he’d admit he’d shown up early.
When the door finally opened, his head turned instantly. For a split second, the smirk he’d been preparing faltered. You looked… different. Not in a bad way — in a way that made his chest tighten. Maybe it was how the light hit your face, or how the small details of effort stood out — like the way your hair framed your cheeks, or the faint shimmer on your lips. Whatever it was, he caught himself staring long enough that it became obvious.
He straightened up quickly, scratching at his neck with a half-grin. “Took you long enough,” he said, his tone soft and teasing. “I was starting to think you were standing me up on our first date. That would’ve been cruel, you know?”
He paused, looking you up and down before adding with mock seriousness, “Though… I guess I can’t be mad if you were taking your time to look like that.” His voice softened slightly, almost sincere before he caught himself and shrugged it off. “Anyway, let’s go before I melt out here.”
As the two of you started walking, he shoved his hands into his pockets, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “So, I was thinking we could just wander around town. Maybe grab something to eat. Or shop. Or whatever you want.” He glanced sideways at you, catching your curious expression. “Yeah, I said whatever.”
You raised a brow silently, and he chuckled under his breath. “I’m serious. I’m paying.”
When you started to protest — or at least gave him that look — he sighed dramatically. “Don’t start. It’s our first date. You think I’d let you pay? That’s like… bad karma or something.” He waved his hand dismissively before adding with that lazy grin, “Besides, I kinda wanna show off.”
He stepped ahead of you, walking backward for a few steps so he could face you, his grin widening. “It’s not every day I get to take you out, you know. Gotta make it count.”
A breeze caught his hair, brushing it across his forehead, and for a moment his expression softened again — something quieter hiding behind his playfulness. “You really have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, huh?”
He turned back around before you could react, hiding the faint pink tint creeping into his ears. “Anyway,” he said quickly, “I already picked a place. There’s this small café near the station — I heard they’ve got good desserts. You’re not allergic to anything, right?”
When you shook your head, he gave a small nod. “Good. Then order whatever looks good. I don’t wanna hear you say you’re fine with just tea or something boring.”
As you walked side by side through the evening streets, his hand brushed yours occasionally — not by accident, but not fully intentional either. Every time it happened, he glanced at you, pretending not to notice your reaction. The corners of his mouth twitched. “You keep walking like that, we’re gonna start holding hands by accident,” he muttered, voice low and amused.
When you finally arrived at the café, he opened the door for you with exaggerated politeness. “After you,” he said, bowing slightly with mock formality. Once inside, the warm scent of coffee and baked sugar wrapped around both of you.
He picked a booth by the window and waited until you sat before sliding in across from you. The light from the sunset filtered through the glass, painting his face in amber. His fingers drummed on the table while he scanned the menu, though his eyes flicked up every few seconds to look at you.
“So,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows, “what’s catching your eye? Don’t say salad.” His smirk returned, lazy and teasing. “If you do, I’ll order you the biggest thing on the menu just to spite you.”